


Ever-changing perception

by sasorimester8



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crime Fighting, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Enemies to Lovers, Fight Sex, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 23:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19859557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasorimester8/pseuds/sasorimester8
Summary: Lovers come and go, and everyone who resides in Gotham is in danger. Slade, on the other hand, was a constant danger himself and thus, invincible. From time to time, he would always come back, becoming some sort of a fucked-up, deadly boomerang in Dick's life.





	Ever-changing perception

**Author's Note:**

> Slade and Dick are sort of forced to work together and will start to genuinely enjoy (or not hate) each others' company & grow closer. 
> 
> More than possibly going to bang too. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It's been a while since Dick saw him. Months or so. He was quite happy about this fact, given the amount of misery and aggravation the mercenary had given him throughout his life. 

Slade.

Deathstroke the Terminator.

The guy who does everything he can to make Dick's life more bitter than it already is.

His lengthy absences were nothing unusual, though. Only a fool would assume that Deathstroke was dead. The guy is nearly immortal, enhanced. Perfected, even. With the level of invincibility he possesses, he's confident to the point where he almost takes pride in having only one eye - the epitome of someone who has faith in themselves. He knows he does not need it and is more than enthusiastic to present that to the world. He is the world's most expensive and sought after killer for hire.

Moreover, it should come as no surprise that he travels great distances to hunt down his prey (at the expense of his momentary employer, of course). And that takes time.

Does he ever get motion sickness? One could wonder. However, it seems like a rather silly concept. Slade Wilson is as close to immortality as a mortal can, could, and - possibly - will ever be.

"I don't even know what I'm doing. It's 2AM and I'm wondering whether the main source of my frustration ever gets sick."

Dick sighed in annoyance, burying his face in his hands and rubbing his eyes - he was tired, had to go to work (aka protect the city) tomorrow, yet here he was, trying to solve the inexplicable puzzle that is Slade and his existence.

Maybe he should take up a hobby.

The next day came. Dick woke up, eyes barely open, resembling a newborn kitten of some sort, the only difference being that - thankfully - he wasn't blind, not even temporarily, as felines are. Rather, he was an adult who - especially recently - lacked the ability to manage his activities in a way that he could start the next day as a properly functioning human being.

With great difficulty, he got out of bed, drank his usual cup of coffee to start the day nicely or in a less shitty way, took a shower during which he brushed his teeth and may or may not have committed other acts, followed by putting his Nightwing suit on along with his mask and all the necessary accessories. All set. Thanks to the series of these activities, he was somewhat prepared to start another day and continue his everlasting fight against crime.

It's been quite a long time since he interacted with Bruce as well. Dick had nothing against him, neither did Bruce - simply, it was deemed more reasonable that he fought on his own, watching over parts of the city to the best of his ability, protecting its citizens from the terrible things, schemes, and even more dreadful troublemakers. It more effective as they both had their own areas they paid attention to. Needless to say, if Batman were to need him, he'd help him just like he always did. And vice versa. Nevertheless, it's important for his wellbeing to be as independent as possible and not live in his master's shadow. That's why he had become Nightwing too, essentially.

Squatting with his hands down, on top of a 10 story building, he watched over the city and could only think of the malice and absolute evil that resided within. There isn't a place that reeks of crime and death as much as Gotham does. (Blüdhaven would like a word, but had been destroyed some time ago by yours truly.) Batman is - without a doubt - keeping things under control, along with a few others, but even he can't beat the ass of every criminal in town, can he? Especially considering the recent reports of a new criminal gang that had settled down in Gotham.

And yet, at this moment, no bad guys were to be seen.

... That is until Dick felt someone put their hand over his shoulder. Agitated, he rapidly jumped away, landed and looked at the perpetrator.

"Hmm, you seem to have lost some weight, kid. Have you stopped working out?" And there he was, the "baddest" of the bad guys.

A voice unchanging in pitch.

"Slade." Dick almost let out a sigh of relief but luckily for his own self he didn't. That'd have been more than confusing for both of them. He stood up.

"Excellent observation."

"What do you want?"

"To slit your throat and watch you bleed, if I'm being honest." Despite the fact that his entirety was covered, Slade's smirk was easily detectable, especially to the hero. The Terminator is his arch enemy, after all. However, as terrible of a person as the ex-soldier was, Dick was very well aware that had Slade wanted to kill him, he would have absolutely succeeded in doing so by now. He's had more than a thousand chances to liquidate him and he never did.

Wilson took a few steps towards Dick, stopping right before him, at which point they had 10 inches and a good amount of mixed, but mainly negative feelings between them. Slade's height alone was intimidating, but not for the late Robin.

"I need you to do me a favor." The mercenary stated indifferently. "See those rats down there?" He pointed at a bunch of men down the street, next to a few black limos. There were around 20 men. Dick could only wonder where they came from as he hadn't seen anything suspicious before Slade appeared. Smartly dressed, but truth be told, those folks didn't appear to be the most trustworthy faces you could find. In reality, they gave every indication of being "bad guys" themselves. They were laughing, really loud, most of them had raspy voices and were of old age.

"Easy targets," Slade thought, "but if they are professionals, it is plausible that they'd have a good level of security".

"I've never seen them before. And I know everyone and every inch of this city. Do you happen to have a clue about their intentions, who the fuck they are, etcetera?" Slade's one, blue eye looked straight into Dick's.

"I, uh.." Conflicted as how to answer, Dick had to think fast. Should he really share such confidential information with him? Obviously not.

But -

"Don't get it twisted, wonder boy. I don't need your help. I could sneak into your apartment whenever I wanted to and steal the files. I just so happened to be in a good mood today that I thought I'd ask before disturbing your precious beauty sleep or ending your life in a few seconds." Dick knew this. He knew damn right. If anyone, then Slade would be the guy to do this. On account of that, it was best as of now to just go with the flow, even if that meant working with Deathstroke. As much as Slade enjoyed the thrill of the kill, it would seem a bit too courageous to straight up murder 20+ people on the street when he doesn't have the information regarding their identities. Especially in daylight. Especially when Batman could be anywhere nearby. An enemy worthy of fighting against, but a nuisance as well. That's what Nightwing thought, and hoped.

He briefly announced to the older bloke that he is to go follow him. Even though he felt like he was betraying everyone and everything he's ever believed in, he was way, way too jaded to put up a fight. Especially with Slade.

And with that, the two left.

During their short way to Dick's apartment, Slade explained he wasn't getting as many job offers as he should and that, along with the sudden appearance of this new gang was a teeny tiny bit more than suspicious. He also couldn't not leave an ill-bred remark in regards to Dick's eye bags, how he could even see them with his mask on was unbeknownst to Dick, but he let it slide.

Contrary to having a hefty amount of people who love and adore him, whether they be family or exes, the only constant in his life proved to be this morally-flawed excuse of a human being. Lovers come and go, and everyone who resides in Gotham is in danger. Slade, on the other hand, was a constant danger himself and thus, invincible. From time to time, he would always come back, becoming some sort of a fucked-up, deadly boomerang in Dick's life.

The place itself was nothing short of average, but he liked it that way. It was small and comfortable and not too personal. Nightwing sat down in front of his computer and voilá, there was every piece of information known about the new, more than shady group. Slade got closer so he could take a look at it as well.

And then his instincts kicked in.

Next, Dick was trying to attack Slade, one hand almost in the air before it was grabbed by one that was far more superior in strength. Then, within milliseconds came the legs but their fate proved to be identical. A second passed and Dick was laying on his apartment floor, wrists and legs hurting like hell, questioning himself: why he acted the way he did, but knowing the answer just well.

Because he's an enemy. Things, people especially, aren't always black and white.

But this is Deathstroke, for God's sake.

D-e-a-t-h-s-t-r-o-k-e.

And yet, every so often he keeps popping up in his head. Keeping his thoughts busy when he has plenty of other things to do and concentrate on. Such as saving the city and managing his personal life. Such as getting his shit together because he hasn't been himself recently. 

It's terrible and confusing. Sometimes tormenting. 

Not mindig Dick's miserable presence, he took his place and sat in his chair."Ah, I see. They're a group of highly-skilled assassins, but who they work for isn't known yet. That's a nice amount of information you got here. I suspected mainly all of this, but reassurance is always delightful. Isn't it, Dick?" -

His head turned to the left and almost met Nightwing's foot. Almost, as in, if he hadn't been chosen for that secret experiment back in the day. Almost, as in, if Dick had slept enough. Slade respected him - but right now, he was no threat. His fist collided with the hero's face, who, once again, fell to the floor.

"Fight with all you've got or don't fight. I'm all up for a one-one-one, but not right now, small fry." Dick spat out a tooth along with some blood, wiped it off his face and stood up.

"Fuck you, Slade."

"Sure."

When asked why this was any of his business, Nightwing was given a rather simple answer: this would benefit both of them. Slade would get rid of the competition and Nightwing wouldn't have to ask for The Big Bat's help, thus getting closer to his goal of completely eradicating any piece of remaining sidekickness in him. (It was without a doubt the last part that convinced him to agree.)

Slade stood up from the chair and was ready to leave. They should investigate further before taking action, and to do that, Slade claimed they are to meet again tomorrow at an exact date, as unfortunate as that sounds. Before getting out the door and disappearing, Slade grinned at Dick, who, in return, turned away and continued his heroic duty as he heard a female scream coming from a nearby street.

"I didn't even say yes, Slade."

**Author's Note:**

> So this was it. :D I plan on continuing asap, I'll probably start tomorrow - I started writing this today and finished it as well but it isn't, like, really long so obviously that's why.
> 
> My native language is Hungarian, not English, but I hope I did relatively well. 
> 
> Please send feedback so I can improve and write better stuff in the future! ❤️


End file.
